Between the Black and White
by warrior of the nile
Summary: Jack lands with a thud. It's all his fault. Why can nothing ever go right for him? All he ever wanted was to be seen. To have friends. Was that really too much to ask? According to the Guardians? Yes. [A rewrite of the Antarctica scene, with varying results and a startling conclusion, at least on Jack's part. Pitch? He just doesn't know what he's getting himself into.]


Jack flies blindly, trusting the wind to guide him. He doesn't know where he is going, all he knows he that he has to get away. Away from that place. Away from the crushed eggs and disappointed kids. Away from _them_.

It is his fault. All his fault. Easter is ruined and he has no one to blame but himself. If only he hadn't been so _stupid_. If only he had listened to Baby Tooth when she wanted to turn back. If only... if only... If only he had done things differently. But he hadn't. And now their only chance of saving the world is gone. All because of him.

When he stops, he realizes he is in Antarctica. He lands, stumbling to his knees as he does. His legs don't want to hold him up anymore. He trembles, hugging his arms around his stomach. Adrenaline races through him. Everything had happened so fast – Pitch, his teeth, the broken eggs, the other Guardians.

For a moment, he thought Bunny really _was_ going to hit him. It wouldn't be the first time. He's gotten into enough fights over the years with other spirits. Well, when other spirits got into a fight with _him_. Strangely enough, he's never been very popular with the other seasonals either. He has the scars to prove it.

But Bunny... he's a Guardian. He never thought a Guardian would hurt him. Not physically anyways. But for a moment there, he thought he had finally pushed too far. This would finally be the time they showed they are like all the others.

It's obvious he doesn't fall under their protection. Just because he is a spirit now, he doesn't count. Apparently. If he did, they wouldn't have left him alone for three hundred years.

He is still a kid.

But he hasn't felt like one for long time.

It's an awkward place to be. He's still a kid, still playful and immature and bratty. But at the same time, he is more than three hundred years old. Three hundred years alone. Three hundred years of isolation. He's too old and too young at the same time. Ever the paradox. Cold and fun, death and amusement. He can kill or he can entertain. It's enough to make his head hurt.

It is right now. But it's not because of his existential crisis. It's because of what he did. It's always what he did. He never seems to be able to do anything right. From trying to get kids to see him to getting other spirits to like him. Nothing ever works. Nothing is ever good enough.

 _He_ is never good enough.

He grips the container of teeth – the source of all of this. Was it worth it? Was it worth his chance of finally fitting in? Sure, he may not be sold on becoming a Guardian, but if they could at least be friends. He would have someone to talk to then. Someone to acknowledge him. Remind him that he is real. He exists. But now, that chance is lost.

He should throw them away. They can't be worth it. After three hundred years, he finally has his chance and he blew it. All for some stupid teeth. He should throw them over this cliff. Be rid of them. They aren't worth it.

But he can't get his hand to let go. His fingers tighten on the container until his knuckles are pure white. He should throw them away.

But he can't.

He shoves the container into his hoodie pocket instead.

"Oh Jack, I thought something like this would happen."

Jack spins around, standing, staff instantly in his hands. Pitch stands not far from him, looking regretful. Ha! As if he buys that.

"What are you doing here?" he growls.

"Why, offering my condolences. You didn't _really_ think they would accept you, did you?"

"They would had if it wasn't for you. And why should I listen to a word you say? You killed Sandy. You want to rule the world."

Pitch laughs. "Oh, to be young again. All the world is black and white for you, isn't it little snowflake? There are the good guys and the bad guys and no grey in between. Well let me tell you, little sprite, my world is filled with grey."

Jack doesn't move. Pitch is wrong. He is well aware that there is more to the world than black and white. But from where he's standing? The only grey Pitch has is the shadows he controls. "You know nothing about me," he spits.

"Don't I?" Pitch raises an eyebrow. "I know your darkest fears Jack. You're debilitating insecurities. I know all those dark little corners that linger inside you."

"And you wonder why no one wants you around," Jack snarks, "Maybe you should try being a little less creepy. Have you ever considered puppies? The kids love them."

Pitch gives another, bitter laugh. "Puppies? Really Frost, I am the Boogeyman for a reason. I deal with fear and terror, _not_ cuteness. No one wants a _nice_ Boogeyman," he sneers, "It is in my job description to be creepy."

"Maybe you should get a new job?"

"And maybe you should try a new approach," Pitch snarls, "Still invisible, are we?"

Jack flinches, but doesn't back down. "They will one day."

Pitch smiles at that. "And I can help you with that. Join me Jack. Join me and together, we can watch over the children of the world."

"You mean rule over them. If you think I would ever join you Pitch, you're crazier than I thought. You know nothing about me." He glares at the Nightmare King, daring him to contradict him.

"Really? I don't know what it's like to be invisible? To be walked through? To talk and yell and scream into unhearing ears? Unseeing faces? I don't know what it's like to doubt my own existence? To feel like a ghost? To have no one to talk to? To have no one believe in me, expect in childish stories and sayings?"

Jack takes a step back from the other spirit, shocked. That... that is _exactly_ how he feels. Everything he has felt, everything he has went through in the last three hundred years. Everything. And Pitch just laid it all out for him. Could it really be true? Could Pitch really understand? But then doubt and common sense comes back. "How do I know you aren't lying. You already said you know all of my fears. Why should I trust anything you say?"

"Because I am not the villain in this story Jack. I am sure the _Guardians_ ," he sneers the word, "have told you I am. I am sure they have woven all kinds of lies and stories about how I want to rule the world. Stories about how evil I am and how _good_ they are. Well guess what Frost? _They lied_."

"No they didn't!" Jack shouts, "You're the one lying, not them."

"Think Frost!" Pitch shouts back, " _Think_. You of all people should understand. The world needs balance for it to survive. Good and bad, black and white, light and darkness – one cannot exist without the other. What would happen to the world if there was not anymore fear?"

"Things would get better."

"No they would not. Has your short time with the Guardians blinded you that much? Opposites are the nature of the world. One cannot exist without the other. Even in yourself, you define this balance. Or are you going to call me a liar about _that_ as well?"

Pitch's stare is so intense, it is an almost physical thing.

"You act as if you are doing everyone a favour. But you're still the bad guy here," Jack tells him, trying to shake off Pitch's words. He doesn't want to admit they are having an affect on him. Doesn't want to admit that Pitch has a point.

The Nightmare King scoffs. "I said I was _needed_ , not that I was wanted. Believe me Jack, I am well aware of what the others think of me. After all, who wants to invite the _Boogeyman_ to the party?"

Probably about as many people that want to invite Jack. And considering the number of parties he has been to – which is none – that's saying something. The same thing Pitch has been saying all along. But Jack isn't called stubborn and obstinate for nothing. "That still doesn't give you the right to try and destroy the Guardians. You've already killed Sandy." He glares. He _liked_ Sandy. Out of all the Guardians, he was the one who never chased him away. He never really talked to him either, but he never hurt Jack. That counts as a big favour in Jack's book.

Pitch leans forward. "Would you like in on a little secret Jack?"

Jack frowns, instantly wary. This can't be anything good. But he can't ignore his curiosity either. He never has been able to. "What?" he asks cautiously.

"Sanderson isn't truly dead."

Jack gasps, shocked. "You're lying," he accuses, "I saw you shoot him!"

Instead of replying, Pitch lifts a hand. Jack shifts, ready to fight, but all Pitch does is release some sand. Some _golden_ sand.

Jack lunges forward, staff swinging. "What have you done to him? Give him back!"

Pitch dances out of the way. "Easy Frost, you're precious Sandman is fine. He isn't even aware at this point. When he is released, he will be none the wiser of anything that has occurred."

Jack doesn't believe him. He can't. He has Sandy trapped and it is Jack's job to save him. He takes another swing, shooting frost at the older spirit. Pitch continues to dance out of the way, blocking him with his nightmare sand. "Why are you doing thins?" Jack shouts.

"Because Jack, the brightest light casts the darkest shadow. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Strength in the face of adversity. The dance between darkness and light will always remain. I am as needed as the Guardians, even if they never accept it. How can the world know courage if they never have to battle with fear?"

The last line freezes Jack is his tracks. He stares at Pitch, finally understanding. Finally seeing. Yeah, Pitch doesn't have the greatest job, but he has a necessary one. Maybe the most necessary on of all. How has nobody figured it out before? How has nobody _seen_? But Jack knows how blind people can be. How they don't accept anything that doesn't fit into their view of the world. "You're a Guardian," he breathes.

Pitch rolls his eyes at him. "No need to be dramatic Frost," he growls.

But Jack shakes his head. "You're the Guardian of Courage," he continues as if Pitch didn't interrupt him. "Who better than the Nightmare King himself?"

Pitch snorts. "Now I know you're time with the Guardians have short circuited your brain."

"No, no, listen!" Jack shouts, excited now, "Don't you see? It all makes sense! It does," he insists when Pitch scoffs at him. "Fear is needed so kids can overcome it. You said yourself, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Sure, you scare the hell out of them, but they get over it. Kids are good at that. They get over it and they become stronger from it. It's a backwards way of doing it, but you're doing it. You're protecting the kids too," Jack beams, positively delighted.

"As if I would _ever_ be one of those stuck up, arrogant fools. I am better than they are. They sit up in their homes all day working on making the children feel _nice_ and _happy_. As if an eggs or a new toy is going to protect them in the real world."

Jack continues to smile. "I'm not saying you have to like them. I'm pretty sure nothing is going to get them to like you either. Especially not after this. But that doesn't make your job any less important than theirs. It just makes you..." he grins mischievously, "A _Grey_ Guardian instead."

"Think we are so clever, don't we?" Pitch mocks.

"Come on Pitch, you should like this," Jack continues to grin.

"And why, pray tell, it that?"

"Because this means you're aren't actually the bad guy and we can be friends," he beams, "I've never had a friend before. Well, besides Baby Tooth. But I've just met her too."

"The cold has obviously frozen your brain."

"No it hasn't. You wanted me to join you didn't you? This means we can hang out."

"I wanted a partnership in which we took out the Guardians together, not a friendship where you are deluded that I am a good guy," Pitch jeers.

Jack grins, stepping closer. "No it's not. You're lonely and want a friend."

"I did not come here to be mocked Frost," Pitch informs him coolly, "If you are against the idea, simply say so and I will be on my way."

He takes another step. "It's alright. I've been lonely too, for a long time."

"I do not have time for such childish talk. Now are you or – what are you doing? Unhand me at once," Pitch commands. Or he tries to. It comes out as more of a yelp than anything.

Jack doesn't listen, just tightens his hold. Because it is obvious Pitch was going to continue to deny it, so it was up to Jack to do something about it. So he did. And what better plan than to hug him? Pitch is warmer than Jack assumed he would be. Burying his face in Pitch's robe, he smiles. They are soft to the touch, just like his shadows.

The older spirit is stiff under Jack's touch, but he doesn't mind. To be perfectly honest, he doesn't have a clue on what he is actually doing. It's not as if he has had anyone hug him in all these years. Slowly, cautiously, he feels arms wrap around him in return. He melts farther into the hug, sighing in contentment. It just feels _so good_.

"Don't get any ideas Frost," Pitch warns, but tightens his grip on the boy.

Jack smiles. "I won't."

"I am not one of those ridiculous Guardians."

"Of course not."

"And this does not make us friends."

"Not at all."

"I am still the feared Nightmare King and the Guardians are still idiots who need destroyed."

"Whatever you say."

Pitch sighs, sounding resigned. "I am not going to be able to get rid of you now, am I?"

"Nope," Jack answers, popping his 'p' as he does.

"Be careful what you wish for," Pitch mutters to himself.

Jack grins and snuggles in farther. "Does this mean you'll give all the teeth back?"

"Don't push your luck Frost. Besides," he adds slyly, "what fun would it be without a battle? Isn't that what you're all about? Fun?"

Jack considers this. He doesn't think he should push his luck with the others right now. Especially after Bunny so adamantly concluded he shouldn't be trusted. And they are pretty weak right now, so something should be done before they disappear or something. On the other hand... well, forgive him, but Jack isn't exactly feeling very charitable towards the others. They turned their backs on him so easily, without even asking for his side of the story. Hmm... "Wouldn't it be a better battle if they weren't so weak?" he suggests.

Pitch sighs. "You are going to throw a wrench in all of my plans, aren't you?"

Jack shrugs. "I've been told I mess everything up enough. Apparently it's my thing. If you don't want..." he hesitates, not knowing what he wants to say. Or, rather, knowing, but not wanting to say it. He doesn't want to lose this. But better to lose this now, when it will only hurt a little than later, when Pitch gets tired of him and it hurts a lot.

Alright, so it will hurt a lot now, but he doesn't need to admit it.

Before he finishes though, Pitch stops him. "I have waited centuries for someone to finally join me, I will not give you up."

"But I haven't-" he starts to protest.

"After all, isn't that what _friendship_ ," he sneers, "is? A partnership between two people? Joining another person in their lives and endeavors?"

Jack smiles and laughs and hugs the Boogeyman all the tighter at that. "Yeah Pitch," he agrees, "whatever you say."

"Brat," Pitch sighs, "You are going to be a brat, I just know it."

"Yeah, but I'm going to be _you're_ brat."

Pitch just sighs again.

Jack grins. This is going to be great.


End file.
